


Remade

by OldWomanJosie



Series: The Saga of the Mary Sues [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 07:39:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2499905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldWomanJosie/pseuds/OldWomanJosie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The grandchildren of Rosegold Morgil return to Middle Earth to save the world. The last in the trilogy that started in Broken and Discovery, but you don't have to read them first. Deliberately about as bad as I could make it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sun was just setting over the tops of Greenwood's trees when the two appeared. A dark-haired man, supporting his very pregnant wife, stumbled into Thranduil's residence, leaving behind them a trail of blood.

The silvan elves stared as the pair staggered in. "Help us please!" the man cried. "My wife- my child-" Suddenly a wave of exhaustion swept over him and the man sank to the floor, his wife yelping in pain as he took her down with him. As the elves rushed to their aid, the man's vision slowly faded into blackness.

It was a moonless night that met his eyes when he awoke. Instantly, concern for his wife broke upon him and he sprang up. Ignoring the elves that tried to detain and question him, he only asked one thing. "Where did the healers take her?"

In time, he finally got an elfling to direct him to the healing wing. The sight that met his eyes made his heart seize with dread. Healers rushed to and fro, holding whispered conferences and casting frequent worried glances at the one occupied bed. On it lay his wife, tears and sweat streaking her face as she trembled with pain.

The man dashed to her side, falling to his knees and slipping his hand into hers. He brushed her sweat-slicked hair from her face and saw the love in her smile. He tried to smile back, but it was so hard to smile through the tears.

He felt a hand descend on his shoulder and he looked up to meet the eyes of an elven healer. The elf held out a basin of water and a clean cloth. "You may bathe her face if you wish," he said.

The man nodded his thanks and took the basin from the healer. He began to tenderly cleanse his wife's face and neck. As he did so, he spoke to the elf. "My name is-"

The elf interrupted. "Galenwen already told us. You are welcome here, Angrenbor. I am the chief healer of Greenwood the Great. Your wife is in labor, as you know, but there is something wrong, either with Galenwen or with the child. We are doing our best, but it may be that-"

Galenwen interrupted the discourse with an agonized wail. Immediately healers swarmed to the bed, shouting orders and doing various things that Angrenbor could not even begin to understand.

The night passed in a blur for Angrenbor. He knelt by Galenwen's bed until dawn, holding her hand and trying with all his might to ease her pain with the power that lay within him. He whispered prayers to each of the Valar in turn, hoping that at least one of them would take pity on his wife.

But the light of the rising sun broke upon a scene of sorrow at the palace. Angrenbor sat stunned, Galenwen's limp hand pressed between his palms. She had eventually lost too much blood during the birth and had taken her last breath in the blue hours before the dawning of the day. He had no idea what had happened to the child and he was past caring. All that he could run through his brain was the image of her eyes, pleading with him to do something to save her. But in his grief and panic for her safety, he had forgotten all words of power and had sat helplessly by her side as her life slipped into Mandos' hands.

He sat stone still, tears falling from his closed eyes, until he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. His only response, though, was to open his eyes. Legolas, the prince of Mirkwood, stood at his side. The elf held a bundle wrapped in his arms and without a word he passed it to Angrenbor. Angrenbor looked down into the sleeping face of an infant. His own child.

He looked up at the prince. "The child lived."

Legolas nodded. "You have a beautiful baby girl, Angrenbor. It is truly a gift of Iluvatar that she lives when her mother..." He trailed off, unsure how to say what he meant.

Angrenbor shrugged. "I would rather her be born dead if it meant that Galenwen survived." He made as if to hand her back to Legolas, then stopped, gazing at her face. The child was so like Galenwen and yet a part of him as well. His eyes flicked to his right hand. In it was nestled Galenwen's ring, Melaglar. He stared for long moments at the ring, then the child.

Legolas' gentle voice shattered the spell. "Angrenbor, what will you do now? Will you remain here to raise your daughter or take her back into the Greenwood?"

Angrenbor's eyes shaded as he glanced up at the elf. "No. I was never good with women or children anyway, and she looks so like her mother that I-" He stopped, biting his lip. "I am afraid of what I might do to her someday." He grasped Legolas' hand for an instant before passing his daughter to the prince.

Legolas awkwardly cradled the infant and turned over his hand. Melaglar rested in his palm. The elf swallowed nervously and asked, "What will happen to her, then?"

Angrenbor sighed and clasped his hands in front of him. "I would that she be raised in Minas Tirith. King Elessar Telcontar reigns there still, and he was beloved of my mother, once upon a time. Someone connected to her family should raise my daughter. None of my kin in Imladris would have her, I think, after what I did to Yaonorme. And-" he paused, glancing around as if lost- "I don't want her raised here, in the house where her mother died."

Legolas shifted uneasily. Many had tried to tell Angrenbor that his brother was alive, and Yaonorme had even tried to seek him out. But the wizard was cunning and had not been seen except in passing for three years. Yet perhaps now he was ready to listen to tidings of his brother. "Angrenbor, your brother-"

Angrenbor's head snapped up and he snarled, "Do not speak of him to me!" Such pain flared in his eyes that Legolas was tempted to desist, but the man had to know. "Angrenbor, listen to me-"

"No, Legolas, you listen." The man stood to his feet angrily. "I killed my brother three years ago and I have had to deal with that guilt every day since then. And when I go out, all others try to speak to me about is what I did! Inflaming my guilt! I can't deal with it anymore.

"Take my daughter to Gondor. Make sure she is well cared for, Prince of Mirkwood. I am going now to do what I would have done three years ago if not for Galenwen. I will go into the Greenwood and fade into the shadows of the trees. I have borne all the sorrow I can bear. Farewell, Legolas. Take care of my Annaeru."

And before the prince could utter another word, Angrenbor Curunirion took a last look at his only child, and then strode from Thranduil's house. He would never be seen again.


	2. Chapter 2

Ellen Tathar paused, letting her last words sink in and her gaze wandering over the three girls sitting before her. None of them were her daughters, but dearer than daughters they all were to her.

Loni Joy Harding sat on the opposite end of the couch from Ellen. Her flaxen hair was evenly parted on the top of her head and combed down on each side to the tops of her shoulders. She was fifteen, but looked ten as her large blue eyes became even larger, listening to Ellen's story.

Loni's dog, an old foxhound named Scarlet (but whose registered name was Ch. Nargothrond's Pixieangel Ravenhair Brethilwen Scarletblush Nightingale Twinkletoes), was currently cuddling with Dorothy O'Kelly. Dorothy was laid out on her stomach in front of Ellen and Ellen's eyes rested on her for a moment.

Dorothy was a tall girl, though not overly so as to attract attention. Her eyes were a mild, clear green and her thick hair, of a colour halfway between black and brown, was braided in a single plait down her back. She, like Loni, was transfixed with the tale and waited impatiently for Ellen to get on with it.

But before going on, Ellen turned her eyes to the last girl. Anita Jerusha Roper was of the same age as Dorothy and Loni. Anita was thin, strong, tall, and muscular; clearly an athlete. Her short curly hair was black, as was her skin. Her dark eyes were bright and keen, though a deep scar on her brow attested that the vision in her left eye, though still good, was slightly distorted. Anita was laid out across the other couch, seeming to have far more interest in the ceiling than in the story.

Yet it was she who asked, "So? Is that it?"

Ellen smiled slyly. "Until tomorrow night, anyway."

Dorothy let out a long breath and threw the pillow she was holding at Ellen. "You're kidding, that's all we get?"

Ellen's storm blue eyes twinkled as she threw the pillow back at Dorothy. "I've got to get some sleep and so do you guys. Don't forget, Laura's coming tomorrow."

Loni swung her feet to the floor. "Whatever the doctor orders. Come on, Dotti." Dorothy and Loni headed down the hall to the room they shared, chattering about the night's story. Just before they shut their door for the night, the two stuck their heads around the doorpost and yelled, "Namarie!"

"Namarie!" Ellen called back. She and Anita went up the stairs together to their own separate rooms. Anita looked thoughtful and finally posed a question to Ellen.

"Ellen, how do you come up with the LOTR fanfics you tell? They fascinate even me, and you know how much I hate all the Tolkien-hype."

Ellen shrugged. "It comes naturally to me."

Anita smiled at her as she went into her room. "Well, you do a good job. It's almost like you were there," she said before closing her door.

Ellen smiled wistfully. "Like I was there." She turned and entered her own room, only sparing a quick glance at the ring on her finger. Her high school class ring's blue stone glinted dully in the glow of the streetlight. Ellen nodded wearily and climbed into bed.

That night Dorothy had The Dream again. She always capitalized it in her journal because it was the only recurring LOTR dream she'd ever had. She had been having The Dream every three nights or so for the past two weeks.

This time, just like all the others, Dorothy found herself standing on the walls of Minas Tirith, looking out over Middle-earth. And just like always, there stood next to her a tall blonde woman. When Dorothy turned to her, the stranger spoke.

"Greetings, Annaeru. I am Erulisse, messenger of the Valar. I have been sent to call you back to the land of your birth. Gondor and Rohan are on the verge of war."

The woman who called herself Erulisse pointed outward. Below them, on the Pelennor, Dorothy could see two armies: one bearing the White Tree, the other the White Horse. Erulisse spoke again as the armies met one another with a clash of steel.

"Take up your birthright, Annaeru. Stop this battle before it begins."

Normally at this point in the dream, Erulisse would say "Think on this, but speak of it to no one. In time you will know what you should do." But tonight she had a new message for the teen.

"Now is the time. Elentathar will aid you. Tell her."

Then the scene was gone and Dorothy's eyes shuttered open. She was in her own bed, on her own side of the room, watching her own heart sister sleep and listening to the sounds of the morning in Chapel Hill North Carolina, her own hometown.

Knowing that she would not be able to go back to sleep, Dorothy slid out of bed and dressed. She went out into the hall and heard the TV. Anita was awake, of course. Padding up the stairs and into the den, Anita found Anita stretching while watching the morning news. Murmuring something that may have been good morning, Dorothy curled up in the recliner beside Scarlet.

Just as she was dozing off once again, Ellen entered the den, pinning up her graying hair and chirping, "Good morning!" Dorothy groaned; she was not a morning person at all. "Where's Loni?" Ellen asked as she began her own stretching routine.

"Still asleep," muttered Dorothy, still holding out the hope of going back to sleep to the tune of the six o'clock news.

"Weird," Ellen said as she stretched her right leg out behind her. "We're usually all up by seven."

Two seconds later, Loni bounded up the stairs and launched herself into the other chair in the den. "Aiya, mellyn! How are we this morning?"

Dorothy growled at her. Here again was another morning person.

Suddenly the doorbell rang. Loni leaped to her feet and whooped. "That's Laura!" She raced down the stairs and flung open the front door, embracing the woman on the other side.

Laura Lin was a short woman with brilliant gray eyes and a ready smile. Her thick sable hair was ever and always tangled atop her head like a bird's nest. She looked like a miniature of Ellen, for they were sisters. Laura attended Duke University and was majoring in philology. She was an LOTR fanatic and talked about it constantly with Dorothy and Loni. Laura also ran track with Anita. She was here this particular weekend because it was September 22nd and Loni had proposed a film festival. All three LOTR extended versions, back to back to back. Ellen was chaperoning Anita at a track meet in Durham and wouldn't be back until Sunday, so it was a perfect opportunity.

Laura returned Loni's hug, then handed her a postcard. "Ecthelion. You're going to have to do better than that to stump me, Alasse."

Loni grinned at her. Laura, Loni and Dorothy had been exchanging LOTR trivia questions by postcard ever since the girls could write and they were fast running out of hard ones for Laura. Dorothy made her way down the stairs and embraced her friend. Laura slipped her a postcard and whispered, "Maeglin" in her ear. Dorothy nodded and took the card. She was not awake enough to care at the moment.

Anita was the last to greet Laura. The older woman asked, "How is the track star this fine morning?"

"Nervous," admitted Anita sheepishly.

"Oh, come on now," admonished Laura. "You're great at what you do and you'll nail the others, you'll see!" Anita shrugged and Laura winked at her. "Sure you will."

Ellen brought up the rear. "Nice to see you Laura. Have you had breakfast?" When the answer came back negative, Ellen said, "Very well. If anyone needs us, Anita and I will be making cinnamon rolls in the kitchen."

Laura slung off her backpack and unzipped it. "I brought the hardest Lord of the Rings/Tolkien trivia game I could find. So what say we play a bit to get ready for the weekend?"

The girls agreed, never tiring of their favorite topic. The day passed quickly by. Most of it was spent immersed in the trivia game. They even managed to drag Anita into a couple of rounds, though she protested vehemently. Anita spent her day resting and preparing for her track meet.

That night, they all convened in the living room again to hear Ellen tell the night's story.


	3. Chapter 3

Legolas rode to Gondor on a mission that he never in his wildest dreams imagined he would one day be carrying out. He was playing stork for the granddaughter of both Curunir and Mithrandir. The elf rode swiftly, yet awkwardly: being a warrior and unaccustomed to handling young ones, he was unsure how to safely transport the child. As it was, he had her in a sling across his chest.

He blinked and swayed in the saddle slightly. Elves needed little or no sleep, true. But putting up with a newborn was a lot, even for the Prince of Greenwood the Great. So Legolas did not notice at first the gradual slowing in his horse's pace. Finally, when Arod stopped altogether, Legolas sat up straighter and took notice of what had made the stallion halt.

A soft cry came from the edge of the Druadan forest. A cry for help. The elf swung down from the saddle and, careful to support Annaeru, went to investigate the sound. He discovered a small hut just behind the tree line. The sound of a baby's wail came from within and Legolas picked up his pace.

He entered the hut and, blinking to adjust his eyes to the dimness, saw who had cried out. A young woman was slumped half on the low bed and half off of it, breathing shallowly. She had been beaten badly and her hands were curled protectively around what looked to be a heap of cloth. But upon a closer look, Legolas discovered a baby girl, wailing in protest of her mother's firm grip.

The elf laid Annaeru upon the bed and took the woman into his arms. Her head lolled back against his shoulder and she looked up at him. Relief shone in her eyes as she studied his face. "Thank the fates," she breathed hoarsely. "You are of elf kind. I prayed that I would not be discovered by one of my own people." When Legolas looked at her quizzically, the woman told her story in a voice that was barely above a whisper. As he listened, the prince attempted to do something about the cuts and bruises that covered the woman.

She was the granddaughter of Theodred, Theoden's son (or so she claimed). Theodred had married a woman the night before he died and gave her a ring in pledge that he would return for her. His wife lived the rest of her life pining after him. She gave birth to a daughter named Hlutor. Hlutor was raised in the wood, and then moved to Edoras upon her mother's death. There she wed an officer of the Mark and became a great healer in Rohan. Hlutor had a daughter, the girl Legolas now held in his arms. This girl, Brynhild, made the sad decision to marry young to a cruel lord named Godgedemod. When Brynhild had become pregnant, Godgedemod was angered, but spared her for nine months in hopes she may have a son.

"When I gave birth to my daughter, he flew into a rage and..." Brynhild drew a weak hand across a bruise on her arm. "...Did this to me. I fled here, to my grandmother's house." She batted feebly at Legolas' hand. "Don't waste your powers on me, elf lord. I am going to die here." Then her eyes flared and she grabbed Legolas' shoulders fiercely. "Take care of Alasse. Don't let him find her! Don't...let..." She fell back limply, and Legolas knew that there was nothing more he could do. Brynhild's hand fell from his and left a gold ring in his palm. Legolas held it up, guessing that it must be the promise ring that Theodred had left his wife so long ago.

Legolas rose and gathered both of the babes into his arms. There was nothing for it but to carry both girls to the White City.

Aragorn Elessar Telcontar, King of Gondor, gaped at a sight that he had never imagined he would see. Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, brother of his heart, entering the gates of Minas Tirith carrying two infants in his arms. Biting his knuckles to keep back his laughter, Elessar greeted his friend.

"Legolas...?"

The elf blew his hair out of his eyes and glared at his friend. "Don't you say a word."

Before either of them could say anything, a young woman descended on them in a swirl of ebony robes. She relieved Legolas of the children in one fell swoop and looked down at them with shining eyes. "Oh, Legolas, they're beautiful! Whose are they? Do they have names?"

"And greetings to you, Elentathar. The one in the gray blanket is called Annaeru, and the child in the green is called Alasse. They are orphans." The elf's blue eyes connected with the King's gray ones. Aragorn nodded; the babies obviously had more of a story than he was willing to tell Elentathar.

Elentathar did not notice the look that passed between them. She was busy obsessing over the young ones. She glanced at Legolas and smiled winningly. "I can raise them, Legolas, if they are truly orphans."

Elessar held up a hand. "Elentathar, I'm sure you mean well, but-"

Elentathar stamped her foot. "But what? Do you still think I'm too young, Ada? Please, you know I can do this."

Legolas laid a hand on his friend's arm. "Estel, it might be good for her."

Aragorn shot his friend a look. "Legolas, no one calls me Estel anymore. Very well, Elentathar, do what you will. But do not come to me if things get out of hand."

Elentathar winked at her father. "It won't. I will raise them as my own daughters, and I know just where we shall live."


	4. Chapter 4

Ellen stopped. After several long seconds, Dorothy demanded, "Well?"

Her guardian shrugged. "That, dear, is a story for another night."

"So Elentathar raised Alasse and Annaeru in Minas Tirith and they lived happily ever after?" Loni asked, smiling.

Laura and Ellen traded looks. But before Ellen could answer, Dorothy scoffed. "Of course not, Loni. Then there wouldn't be anymore stories."

"Good point. And _now_ to bed and _now_ to bed," sang Loni in a high voice.

Laura laughed aloud. "Yes, let's. We have a big day tomorrow."

Dorothy blinked and looked around. She was having The Dream again. But now she and Erulisse stood on the Pelennor. They stood in a narrow gap between the armies of Gondor and Rohan, which seemed to have been frozen in time.

Erulisse turned to Dorothy and the girl was surprised to see the anger kindled in her formerly gentle eyes. "Time is short, Annaeru. Do now as I say. Speak of this to Laurelin and Elentathar. They will help you to stem the slaughter that will soon begin."

Then Erulisse was gone and Dorothy stood alone. The armies unfroze and began hurtling at each other as if they did not see the teenage girl standing in their midst. Dorothy screamed as they crashed together over her.

With a gasp her eyes sprang open. Dorothy looked around, lying still and trying to control her heavy breathing. Once again, she was in her own room. Everything was as it should be. She was just beginning to relax when the doorknob turned and the door began to crack open.

Dorothy stifled a shriek and Ellen Tathar darted into the room at the muffled cry. "Dotti?" she hissed urgently into the semi-dark.

Dorothy sagged back onto her bed, relieved. "Ellen, what are you doing?"

Ellen came and sat on the bed. "I thought..." She looked down at the ring on her thumb. "Are you OK?"

Dorothy gave her guardian a sideways glance. "Ellen, I'm perfectly fine. Why?"

Ellen gasped dramatically and clutched at her chest in mock panic. "You doing this when I opened the door gave me a clue. Did you have a weird dream or something?"

Dorothy suppressed a shudder, recalling the armies coming at her, murder in their eyes. "Yeah, really weird."

Ellen propped herself up on her elbows comfortably. "Want to tell me?"

Suddenly everything clicked for Dorothy and she felt so stupid. Ellen...Tathar. Elentathar. "I think I have to." She began with the first dream and told the tale leading all the way up to her latest dream. Then she sat silently, waiting for her guardian to pass judgment on the sequence of visions.

Ellen, meanwhile, had turned terribly pale. She sat in stone silence for several long minutes. Finally Dorothy prompted, "Ellen?"

The woman started and locked eyes with Dorothy. There was a grim light in her eyes. "Go into the living room and wait for me there."

Frightened by the tone of the elder woman's voice, Dorothy hastily slid out of bed and took off into the living room. In a few minutes, Ellen came into the living room, followed by the rest of the girls. Loni and Anita looked much the same as Dorothy, confused and scared. Ellen and Laura looked grave and continually traded unsure looks. When they were all settled, with Scarlet curled in Loni's arms, Ellen cleared her throat.

"Girls, what I have to tell you may shock you. But whatever I say, please believe that I am not crazy or delusional. I am in deadly earnest."

The three nodded in mute agreement. Ellen took a deep breath and, glancing at Laura one more time, plunged ahead. "Ellen Tathar is not my real name. It's Elentathar. I, and Laura, are the daughters of Elessar Telcontar, King of Gondor. Every story of Rosegold and her family I've ever told is true and Middle-earth is real."

Stunned silence enveloped the group. Laura nodded. "It's true," she said quietly. "She isn't crazy. She's telling the truth. As for me, my own name is Laurelin, younger daughter of Elfstone and Evenstar."

Dorothy barked a short laugh. "And I suppose that next you're going to tell us that I am Annaeru, daughter of Angrenbor and that Loni is Alasse, great-granddaughter of Theodred." Silence reigned over the group.

She gaped. "Oh, come on, guys! You've gone off the deep end. I know that we all love Ellen's stories and we all... well, most of us acknowledge that Tolkien was a literary genius, but really!"

Anita muttered, "So what am I? The grand Poopah of the Haradrim?"

Laura rolled her eyes. "'Nita, this is serious stuff."

Ellen fixed her eyes on Dorothy. "If your dreams are, as I think, sent from the Valar, then we have little time to waste. Dorothy, you are being called to take up your birthright and stop an apparently impending war in Middle-earth. All of this is true, and I can prove it to you."

Still skeptical, the girls eyed the sisters with trepidation. "Okaaaaay..." said Anita slowly. "But if we're not convinced, I'll have the funny farm on speed-dial."

Twenty minutes later, the five were standing outside of a mini-storage pod. Ellen unlocked it and opened the door onto a small space crammed with anything and everything.

"Wow, who knew Middle-earth was stuffed with so much junk?" Anita commented as the group tried to all fit inside.

Ellen led them to the back of the room. They convened near a puce and beige polka-dot door that was propped up against the wall. "This is it," she said. "It's a good thing you told me about the dreams today, Dotti. The portal between worlds is only open on choice days of the year. Such as today, September 22nd."

Anita eyed the gaudy door. "Middle-earth has nooooo fashion sense. At all."

Dorothy elbowed her in the side and asked, "How do you know if it's open?"

Laura opened the door. There was a white stone room on the other side. She grinned. "It's open." She stepped through and waved to them. "Come on!"

Ellen tapped her foot impatiently. "Well, of course it's open. Girls, go on through. I'll come last after you."

One by one the girls cautiously stepped from one world into the next, still not believing that this was happening. Ellen at last came through and shut the door. She turned to the others and put her hands on her hips. "Welcome, ladies, to Minas Tirith, city of Kings!"

There was silence for a moment, and then the girls ran to the single window of the chamber, straining to see if it was true. What they saw took their breath away.

The shining circles of Minas Tirith gleamed in the waning sunlight and on a day as clear as this, they could glimpse the brightness of Osgiliath as well. The landscape stretched forever before them and momentarily struck them dumb in amazement.

Then reality hit all three of the first-time visitors. Anita leaned back against the wall and gave a low whistle. "Wow, snap. So Tolkien was right. This is Middle-earth." Then a mischievous smile spilt her face. "I wonder if Legolas is as good-looking as they say..."

Dorothy began gasping for air and collapsed to the ground beside Loni, who was already down there, petting the stone floor work and crying, "It's true, it's true, oh, Valar, it's true!" The two carried on for quite a while; touching and examining the stones to assure themselves that it was real.

After several long moments, Anita rolled her eyes. "Guys, really." She turned to Ellen and Laura, who were doubled over in laughter at Dorothy and Loni's reactions. "Ellen, make them stop it, they're going to hurt themselves."

But finally Loni and Dorothy stopped themselves, lying prostrate beside each other and breathing hard. "We made it, mellon," Dorothy giggled. "Finally made it."

Loni sucked in a huge breath and sat up, staring around. "Oh no." The dread tone of her voice and the look on her face made Ellen suddenly stop laughing and looked at her intently.

"Loni?"

Loni didn't answer for a minute, and then she looked down at Dorothy. "Oh Dotti...now we're Mary Sues!"

Dorothy sat up too and wailed, "Oh noooo!"

That set Ellen laughing again, and due to the infectiousness hyperness of Loni and Dorothy, soon they were all on the floor. They laughed and laughed and laughed with joy.


	5. Chapter 5

When their mirth was spent and they all lay about catching their breath, the raised voices finally reached them. Laura tilted her head toward the door. "And...we may be here for a while. That's Dari and Elfwine of Rohan that are screaming in there. Wonder what's going on?"

Ellen hauled herself to her feet. "I don't know, but we'd better go and see. Come on!"

As they hurried toward the source of the noise, Anita hissed at Laura, "Define 'a while'. I have a track meet tonight!" The voices grew louder as they rounded a bend and before Laura could answer, a door banged open a little further down the hall.

A blond man dressed in kingly robes stormed into the corridor, shouting, "You haven't heard the last of this, Eldarion!"

No answer came from within the chamber, merely a shattering crash. The man swept past the women angrily. He paused for a moment to shoot a venomous glare at Elentathar and Laurelin before stalking away. Dorothy leaned over and whispered in Anita's ear, "I'd forget the track meet, 'Nita."

Laurelin stepped to the open door and stuck her head inside. She quickly jerked back as a roar echoed from within and a thud followed it. After the ruckus faded, she looked back in again cautiously. "Dari?"

The others gathered in the doorway and beheld a scene of utter chaos. A heavy desk was on its side, papers strewn everywhere. In the midst of it all, a man stood. Swallowing a squeal, Dorothy at first took him for Aragorn. But she remembered Laura saying Eldarion and so she looked again. So this was the son of the famed Elessar of Gondor.

He was not very tall, but he had a presence that suggested power. The aura of anger about him magnified this to a great degree. His dark hair and silver robes were in disarray and his face was flushed with passion. His gray eyes flashed as he turned sharply toward them, a heavy vase in his hand ready to throw. When he registered Laurelin's face, his own visage softened and he lowered his arm.

"Laurelin, what are you doing here? I thought you were-" Then he saw the strangers behind her. "Oh Laurelin, you didn't!"

Laurelin grinned weakly and Elentathar spoke up. "Dari, you don't underst-"

"Get out!" he cried. "I am not in the mood for this!"

Nodding, Elentathar swung the door closed and herded the others down the hall. Behind them, Eldarion loosed his mounting frustration on an unassuming bookshelf, releasing a bellow of rage as he swept every book to the floor in a swirl of argent robes.

Elentathar and Laurelin held a whispered conference as they made their way down the hall.

"What was that, Elentathar?"

"I don't know, you tell me!"

"Have you ever in your life seen him that angry?"

"Well, there was that time we dangled him head-first from the Tower of Ecthelion..."

"Aside from that."

"No, never! What could have happened? And where's Ada?"

"You're asking me?"

Dorothy interrupted, tapping Elentathar on the shoulder. The group pulled to a halt as the girl asked, "What's going to happen to us?"

Elentathar mentally kicked herself. The poor girls were dealing with the most bizarre case of culture shock, not to mention that they were probably still reeling from Eldarion's outburst. She smiled at them bravely. "We're going to go and see a friend of ours. Belegorn is the Captain of the Guard. He'll explain some things, get us some better clothes, food, a place to stay..." She kept up this strain of idle chatter until they reached the main guardhouse.

A man was sitting just outside the door, polishing his sword blade. He looked up at the women's approach and smiled when he saw Elentathar and Laurelin. "Good evening, ladies. What brings you my way?"

Elentathar returned the smile and embraced her old friend. "Hello, Belegorn. Laurelin and I brought a couple of friends home, but Dari seemed kind of...tense." Anita snorted at the understatement. "We were wondering if you could give us a bit to eat and then perhaps explain where my father is?"

Belegorn tilted his head a bit, as if listening, then said, "Look." He got up and peered over the nearby wall. The women followed him and watched as, far below them, the gates opened and the blond man who had stormed past them in the hall rode out of them. He met a group of horsemen who were standing waiting for him and they made off together.

Loni leaned farther over the wall to get a better look. "Hey, that's the guy who was screaming at your brother, Laura!"

Belegorn pulled her back before she fell. His face was grave. "Screaming? It had escalated into a shouting match?"

Laurelin nodded. "And we were hoping you could tell us why."

Belegorn smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "When isn't King Elfwine screaming at something? Come."

As he led them inside the guardhouse, Dorothy grabbed Loni and hissed, "Elfwine, Loni! This is unreal."

Loni nodded. "Son of Eomer! King of Rohan!" Then she stopped, sobering. "And my kin," she added in a whisper.

Elentathar shooed the girls into the house. The group settled around a table with bread, milk and cheese and Belegorn began to explain things.

"The sons of Elrond are sailing for the Undying Lands at Yuletide. King Elfstone and Queen Evenstar left about two weeks ago to say their farewells and spend some time at Rivendell. The King left the White City to your brother, trusting that it would be a good exercise in responsibility for him-"

He stopped, eying Anita. "Wait just a minute. Elentathar, who is she? Is she with you?"

Anita looked puzzled at Belegorn's distrustful tone, but Laurelin waved him off. "Relax, Belegorn. She isn't a Haradrim spy or whatever nonsense your overactive imagination is conjuring up. She's just a girl, and her skin tone is no reason to be so picky. Anita Roper, meet the most paranoid man in the history of Gondor. Go on, Belegorn."

He continued, but not without frequent wary glances at the black girl. "However, just after they left reports started coming in that the outlying settlements along the border with Rohan were being attacked by the Rohirrim. Gondor and Rohan have been friends for time out of mind, so naturally Eldarion believed there was some sort of mistake.

"But when he sent soldiers to counter and investigate these raids, reports were the same. I myself saw them, King Elfwine riding at their fore. The Prince, though, was still hesitant to believe this, so he went himself to a border village. There he saw with his own eyes the men of Rohan plundering and killing like common thieves. Unmistakable.

"He sent a messenger to Meduseld to inquire about this. But the runner returned with a heated reply from Elfwine, accusing the men of Gondor of pillaging their outlying villages. Their stories are nearly identical.

"So a meeting was arranged between the two to discuss the similarities. That would be the meeting that you say descended into screaming fits."

Elentathar bit her lip. "This is terrible."

Laurelin muttered, "You leave a city for a few months and all Angband breaks loose."

Dorothy asked, "So, what does that mean we're going to do?"

"Help," Laurelin said simply. "We're going to stay and help."

This declaration proved too much for Loni. "O joy, O 'arpiness, and all my dreams have come true!" she cried, and then burst into tears.


	6. Chapter 6

Belegorn got them rooms for the nights, and in the morning went to discover if the evening chill had cooled Eldarion's temper somewhat. He returned just as the women were finishing breakfast.

"Prince Eldarion wishes to speak with you. All of you. If you ladies will follow me?"

And that was how the Mary Sues, arrayed as ladies of the White Tree, were led to the chamber of the Prince of Gondor.

Dorothy shifted from one foot to the other and brushed imaginary crumbs off of her nankeen gown while Belegorn went inside to see if the Prince was ready for them. She looked over at Laurelin, who was standing serenely to one side, and asked, "Do I look okay? I mean, what am I going to say to him?"

"Nothing," the older woman answered. "I don't think he's going to like you being here in the first place, so it's better if you just don't say anything at all." Dorothy nodded, feeling unable to speak anyway.

Anita, too, was nervous. "Ellen, what if he asks about me like Belegorn did? I feel so awkward here; are the only black people in Middle-earth considered evil?"

Elentathar put her arm around the girl's shoulders. "The Southrons and the Haradrim have always been our enemies and yes, it's true that they are the darkest skinned people on Arda. So many here are going to be wary of you. But don't let it worry you. Eldarion knows that you are one of my charges. He already knows a lot about you from what I tell him when I come home to visit. So don't worry, just smile and be yourself."

The door opened and Belegorn beckoned to them quietly. Elentathar led them inside, cautioning them to silence with a glance. They stepped into the plain chamber and into a strange silence, so thick it felt to Loni like a heavy blanket held over her head so that she could barely breathe.

Or maybe it was because of the person who stood upon their entry to greet them. Eldarion, son of Elessar Telcontar, was a fascinating person to look upon. At first glance, he was still fairly young, but grim and serious with the weight of his responsibilities. However, a closer look revealed a mischievous twinkle in his storm-gray eyes and a smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he approached to greet his sisters.

Standing just behind Eldarion were two equally fascinating figures. One was a stocky dwarf with gray-tinged auburn hair and braided beard. The other was an elf, a prince of elves with hair like jet and calm blue eyes. Dorothy guessed that they were Gimli and Legolas, for she knew no other elf and dwarf who could stand so peaceably beside one another.

Eldarion embraced his sisters and nodded his thanks to Belegorn, who bowed and left the room. But the man's smile failed him when he turned his gaze on the three teenagers. However, he quickly recovered and he sat, waving for the others to do the same.

When they were all seated, he began to speak. "First of all, I want to apologize to all of you. Elfwine was being incredibly bull-headed, but that is no reason for me to yell at any of you. Or throw things at you," he added with a meaningful glance at Legolas, who gave him a reassuring smile.

"But Elentathar," he continued, turning to the eldest of his sisters, "why did you bring these girls here? I thought there was an agreement: No bringing anyone else back or to through the portal. No telling anyone about its existence. Remember? Why did you bring them here in spite of the rules? Their heritage aside, of course. The whole point of raising them, or Annaeru at least, in the 21st century was to keep her away from Arda so that she could not use her powers for either good or ill." Then he caught sight of the ring on Dorothy's finger. "And you still let her wear Melaglar."

Before Elentathar could answer, Dorothy herself spoke up, sliding her hands under the table. She looked a bit hurt by the prince's words. "My lord, Ellen brought me here because of a dream I had." She explained her dreams as she had to Ellen, with Eldarion listening quietly.

When she had finished, the prince was quiet for a moment. His brow wrinkled in thought, he asked, "But what can you do? You are only a girl, a foreigner. You don't know this world, or anything about it."

Dorothy's eyes flashed. "I know some things. I've read the Lord of the Rings." The moment the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. She could have just ruined the natural timeline of Middle-earth by revealing the publication of the books.

However, no one present seemed shocked or perturbed at the declaration. On the contrary, Eldarion's heavy sigh intimated that he was well acquainted with the series. He rolled his eyes at Laurelin, who shrugged apologetically. "The Lord of the Rings," the man said bitterly. "The very reason we are so careful about guarding the portals. When Mr. Tolkien stumbled onto Middle-earth, we were gracious enough to give him a way home and were hospitable to him while he was here. Unbeknownst to us, he took back with him a hastily made copy of the Red Book of Westmarch and any other history book he could lay hands on. From thence he created the Lord of the Rings, the Silmarillion, and so on."

Loni observed, "You don't seem pleased."

Elentathar cut in. "It's not that Tolkien isn't a great writer, he is. But those who know about him here don't take kindly to the idea that Tolkien took all the credit for 'making up' Middle-earth, when in fact he merely stumbled onto an existing place. The fact that he would have been considered insane if he had declared otherwise is not often taken into account.

"Another problem with the popularity of the series is that more and more fanatics are searching for portals. Some find them, others don't. But those who do are often unprepared. They die here because they stumbled through a portal and weren't ready for what was on the other side. And then there are those who get here just fine and wreak havoc by acting like complete lunatics."

Loni's mouth dropped open. "Wow. I never thought about that."

Elentathar got back to the reason she had brought the girls. "I knew I had to bring Annaeru here because of her dreams. But Loni and Anita are both under my care as well and I couldn't just leave them alone, or send Annaeru here by herself, so I had to bring them all."

Eldarion propped his elbows on the table and put his chin in his hands. "Very well, Elentathar. But I still do not like this." Then he asked, "Has Belegorn told you of what is happening?"

Laurelin nodded. "He said that Ada left you in charge for a while and you weren't even able to hold it together for a week!"

Eldarion glared at her. "Funny." He got to his feet and began to pace. "But true. Adar trusted me with this realm, I should have been able to handle it! This was a time of peace!" He sat down again and ran his hands through his hair. "How could things have gone so wrong?"

Laurelin reached over and touched his hand. "Have you sent messengers to Ada? Perhaps he could-"

"No!" Eldarion cried, springing to his feet again. "I cannot let him know how I have failed! This is the first time he has trusted me with anything this huge and I've bungled it horribly! My only hope is to fix the situation myself, to show him that I can handle things."

Gimli tapped his fingers on the table. "Eldarion, this is madness. It is difficult to admit you need help, but it takes courage as well. Instead of making a bigger mess of things, why do you not admit your courage and honesty by calling on your father for aid? It is the sign of a wise ruler, to admit his own fault."

Eldarion turned to him sharply. "What are you saying, exactly?"

Legolas held out a calming hand to him. "Let go of your pride, Eldarion. You are still young. Admit that you are not yet fully prepared to manage a kingdom the size of Gondor."

Eldarion opened his mouth as if to say something, then turned and left instead, slamming the door behind him. A thud and a yelp soon followed and Gimli got up, sighing. "I suppose I'd better make sure he doesn't hurt himself."

After the dwarf exited, Laurelin looked at Legolas. Choosing her words carefully, she asked, "What if we, the girls and Elentathar and I, caught up to Elfwine's party and consulted him on this matter?"

Legolas looked thoughtful. "I would say that it is a good idea, but Elfwine is angry at your brother and he may do something that would be... regrettable."

Elentathar laughed wryly. "Legolas, who was it that broke Belegorn's shinbone when she was six while practicing swordplay? We'll be fine." She rubbed her thumb over her ring. "I've kept my charges safe for this long and I especially won't let anything happen now."

The elf sighed. "Then I think it would be worth a try." Loni and Dorothy were high-fiving at the thought of going to Rohan when Legolas added, "But I think Belegorn should go with you."

Anita made a face. "No, not Belegorn!"

Laurelin punched her lightly in the shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun!"

Legolas caught the wink that passed between Laurelin and her sister and cautioned, "Don't do anything to him. The poor man is still recovering from the last trip he took with the two of you."

Laurelin's eyes opened wide in innocence. "Yes, Uncle Legolas, we'll be good."

Legolas pursed his lips irritably. "I think you're quite old enough to realize that I am not your uncle." Then his look softened and he said, "Go now. And be careful."

Elentathar rose. "Thank you, Legolas. Come, girls."


	7. Chapter 7

By the next day the six of them were on their way to catch the Rohirrim, to speak to Elfwine of the Mark. Loni and Dorothy went armed with bows and rapiers (they had been taking fencing and archery lessons for years) and the natives of Middle-earth were carrying about the same. Gimli had groused that they were armed too lightly, but Elentathar assured him that it was enough.

Since there was really no need to discuss the Lord of the Rings (seeing as they were IN it), Anita decided to indulge in something she enjoyed. The Lion King. Belegorn, of course, was utterly lost, but the others joined Anita in her singing and quoting quite willingly... for a while. By the time they sighted Elfwine's camp, though, everyone was thoroughly sick of the animated epic...except Anita.

"O-wim-o-weh, o-wim-o-weh, o-wim-o-weh, o-wim-o-weh," she sang, eyes closed. "In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight! In the jungle, the mighty jungle the lion sleeps- I can't hear you, guys, back me up! A-WEEEE-ee-EE-ee ba-Pum-ba-bum-ba-way! A- guys?" She opened her eyes to check on her friends. They were being uncharacteristically silent during her recitation.

This was explained by the eored that had ridden up on them as she was singing. She felt the blood rushing to her face with her embarrassment. The sight of Belegorn, who was barely containing his laughter, did not help her mood. "You find this funny, carpet boy?" Anita snapped, using the nickname she'd given Belegorn for no apparent reason.

Upon the use of this decidedly odd term, Belegorn totally lost it and almost fell from his horse in laughter. The leader of the eored, a young man with fair hair and sunburnt skin, rode in a tight circle around the now halted group. "If you are quite finished..?" he asked caustically, tapping his fingers on his saddle horn. After the hysterical guard captain had composed himself, the young man continued.

"So, Elentathar," he said haughtily, "is this your brother's war party? Does the son of the great Elfstone send women and children to do his dirty work? Oh yes!" He motioned to Anita. "And a songbird of a Southron spy as well! Well, what do you have to say? Speak!"

The now-calm Belegorn spoke instead. "I am Belegorn, captain of the guard of the White Tower. I assure you, I am neither woman, spy, nor child. We have nothing to say to you, Dernwine, except take us to your father. What we have to say is for him alone."

Dernwine barked a laugh and looked sideways at him, but didn't argue with the man of Gondor. He rode at the head of the procession and they were escorted into the camp. The three Mary Sues returned the stares of the men of the Mark, who were wondering what they were doing here. All remained silent though, and tried to avoid looking too awkward.

The group was escorted into Elfwine's quarters and left there relatively alone with the King, though Dorothy could see servants and guards lurking near at hand. But they were soon forgotten at the sight of the King of the Mark. He lolled on his bedroll, a mug of ale loosely held in one hand. By the wild look in his eyes, he clearly had had too much ale and not enough rest. He rose to his feet and jabbed a finger at Belegorn.

"What do you want? Did Eldarion send you to spy?" He threw wide his arms. "Take a good look. I have nothing to hide." He laughed madly.

Stunned by the state in which they found the Rohirrim monarch, Belegorn fumbled with his words a bit too long and Elentathar stepped in. "We are a peace emissary from Gondor. We came to talk to you about the attacks."

Elfwine laughed again. "You came to ask. This is some trick of your brother's; he's trying to trap me into saying that I'm sending my men to kill his precious peasants. Well, I've got nothing to say to him! The misbegotten wretch will get no false confession out of me!" He hurled his ale mug to the ground with a crash.

After a moment, he continued in a very different voice. "I saw Gondor's men. I saw Eldarion, the prince. He murdered women, gutted children. I saw it all. Do you doubt my eyes?" he snarled at them. "I know what I saw. And Rohan... I will not stand for this slaughter. I will fight to my last breath to protect my people from the butchers of the White Tree!"

With this last declaration he threw his fist into the air to accentuate his words. Unfortunately, the lack of sleep had taken its toll on the man and he toppled over backwards, out cold, half-in and half-out of the tent.

Elentathar's mouth opened and closed silently before she turned to her companions and whispered, "We should...probably go."

They made their way away easily, as everyone was busy over the senseless Elfwine. They were almost home free before they were stopped.

"What have you done to the King?" Dernwine cried, dashing up to them with a posse ganged up just behind him.

Loni got nose-to-nose with the heir and placed her finger in the center of his chest. "The King of Rohan," she said quietly, "passed out from his idiotic refusal to sleep. We had nothing to do with it. So you will let us leave."

The look in her eyes made the man stop. Dernwine nodded briskly. "Fine. Be gone within the hour." He turned to an old woman who lurked among the horses. "Hlutor!" he called out. "Help them prepare to leave."

The woman nodded to Dernwine, but her eyes were fixed on Loni. When Dernwine was gone, Dorothy socked Loni on the shoulder playfully. "Good job dealing with macho man back there!"

Loni shrugged. "I'm supposed to be of royal lineage, so I figured I should try it out one time."

The group from Gondor were all hurriedly saddling their horses when Loni felt a touch on her arm. She turned to see the bent old woman who Dernwine had called Hlutor standing beside her. The woman's hair fell in iron gray ringlets almost to the ground, but her eyes still snapped with the pride and fire of the Horse Lords. "Are you the daughter of Brynhild?" the woman asked hoarsely.

Loni started, dropping the saddle blanket she'd been holding. "How do you know that?"

The woman did not answer, but instead reached out and grabbed Loni's hand, turning it so that the gold ring she always wore on her thumb caught the light. When it did, the elderly woman grabbed Loni into a hug. "It is you! Daughter of my daughter! Only Brynhild's child would still wear the ring of Theodred after all this time."

The others, hearing her exclamation, gathered around the two. Dorothy laced her fingers together in front of her. "So, you're Loni's grandmother?"

Elentathar placed her hand on the matron's shoulder. "Let's talk."

The group held a meeting right there, standing around Loni's horse. Laurelin told the story of Legolas' finding of Loni and Brynhild and of Brynhild's death. Hlutor nodded.

"When Brynhild did not return for days, my husband and I set up a search for her. We found her lying dead in my mother's house. I testified at last about Godgedemod's abuse; I had been too frightened before, fool that I am. We never searched for...the child. We always thought that since Brynhild did not have you with her, Godgedemod had killed you too. Godgedemod was executed for the murders, but he still had allies. They succeeded in displacing me from my high position as healer. Now I am a broken old woman, a stable hand of Rohan. Few remember who I was."

She gazed at Loni, who was holding tight to her hand. "For fifteen years I have grieved for my daughter and her child. Now that I have seen that you live and thrive, I am content. You have come back to me as I am at death's door and now I can die in peace."

Realizing what she was saying, Loni pulled her into an embrace. "No, you can't! Not now! We've only just met!"

Hlutor hugged her fiercely, whispering into Loni's hair, "I once was the greatest healer in the Mark, do I not know when my own body is failing?" Then she pulled back and looked into Loni's eyes. "Royal blood flows in your veins, my dear. Use it for the greater good. As I did." They remained locked in each other's arms, tears flowing, until Hlutor's breathing slowed and finally stopped altogether.

Belegorn gently lifted Hlutor into his arms as Loni collapsed into Laurelin, who smoothed her hand over her hair soothingly. Dorothy slid her hand under Loni's and touched her ring. "It doesn't seem fair that the heir of Rohan should die among horses. But Loni, this means that you're the true heir to the throne of Rohan. A right line from Theoden King."

Loni sniffed, trying to stem her tears. "I think not."

Anita put a hand on her shoulder. "But Loni, think again. If you took the throne as the true heir, the threat of war would be gone."

Loni hiccupped and wiped her eyes with her hair. "Or, since Elfwine is so volatile, we'll get into even more trouble and cause a civil war. No. And besides, as nice as it sounds, my 'lineage' is probably just a story." She slid the gold ring from her finger and placed into Hlutor's hand, curling the woman's fingers around it. "The knowledge doesn't go beyond us. Keep it secret."

Belegorn nodded and called out to Dernwine, who was approaching. The youth relieved Belegorn of his burden and Elentathar explained, "This woman has just recently died. Be sure she receives an honorable funeral."

For once subdued, Dernwine nodded. "I will. She was a faithful servant of the Rohirrim." As he turned to go, Loni's ring fell from Hlutor's hand. Dorothy stooped and retrieved the ring, placing it on the dead woman's finger. Dernwine looked at it oddly. "That design looks familiar..." he said absently, half to himself. "Like a device I once saw on one of the tombs of the Kings." Shrugging, the young man bore off his burden.

Elentathar turned back to Loni, grinning. "See? It's true." Loni whistled softly.

"Let's go," Elentathar exclaimed. "We have to get back to Dari."


	8. Chapter 8

They returned to Minas Tirith and convened again in the chamber where they had first met Eldarion. Belegorn, the Mary Sues, Elentathar, Laurelin and Gimli sat waiting for Legolas to return so that they could begin.

The Mirkwood elf entered the chamber alone and sat down. "I could not induce your brother to join us," he said, smiling apologetically. "He's still furious that you went after Elfwine King without asking him."

Laurelin dismissed her brother's anger with a wave of her hand. "He'll get over it. Right now we have to decide on something to do, with or without Dari's input."  
They sat silently, thinking. Then Belegorn said slowly, "We could arrange a meeting between Elfwine and Eldarion again, in a neutral location this time. I know-" He held up a hand to forestall the reminders that were forthcoming. "I know. The last meeting ended badly.

"But!" he said quickly, holding up a finger. "Now we have her," pointing at Dorothy. "I've heard who you are. If you're really meant to help us, perhaps you could moderate a conference between the two of them. With you between them, Dorothy, to keep things together, maybe something would be decided."

Dorothy was already shaking her head. "Hold the phone, I'm not feeling too sanguine about the whole 'keeping the peace between two crazy men spoiling for war' thing. I don't know a thing about doing that and I wouldn't know how to stop them if another screaming fight breaks out."

"But don't you have 'the power'?" Anita asked in a spooky voice.

Elentathar rolled her eyes. "But she doesn't know how to use them because we kept them under wraps for fifteen years." She tucked one leg under her, trying to think. "Dotti, can you make Melaglar glow? Your mother was the only one who could, but you may be able to as well."

Dorothy shrugged. "I've never tried; I don't know what to say." She ran through her mind everything she knew about Galenwen, her mother. What would she have said?

"Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan na ngalad."

The words sprang from Dorothy unbidden and in a heartbeat the ring dazzled all present with it's light.

Loni nodded. "OK, so we know that works. Now can you turn it off, Dotti please?"

Dorothy squinted at the shining band on her finger. How?  
"Losto Melaglar, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'galad!"

The words again came without thought and instantly the light winked out. Rubbing their eyes to rid them of the spots, the group murmured their congratulations at Dorothy's accomplishment.

Anita was the first to speak again. "Let me see if I have this right. We have one amateur kinglet who isn't sure what he's doing and one moody blond horse nut. Both are ready to declare war to stop the killing raids. Neither of them is raiding the other and neither believes that that is true because of eyewitness reports. Now watch out! Here comes the Mary Sue, a half-goddess teenager with a thousand-watt spotlight on her ring finger. And this helps how?"

Elentathar tilted her head at Dorothy. "If we can get you a staff and do your hair just right, maybe that's all you'll need to do. If you can light Melaglar and just look dangerous, perhaps they won't push you."

Belegorn, who was past trying to figure out Anita's speech, concentrated on Elentathar's suggestion. "That sounds like it could work, Elentathar. This is what we'll do then..."

Suddenly the guard captain was interrupted by a crash. Every head turned to see Legolas, prince of Mirkwood, sprawled on the floor. Anita was perched on the edge of the bench Legolas had previously occupied, smiling sweetly down at him. Very slowly and quietly, the girl had been scooting closer and closer to the elf and he in turn had moved away, until he fell onto the floor.

"Legolas...?" Elentathar's voice held an undercurrent of laughter and the dark-haired elf scowled at her.

"You sound just like your father did when I brought Alasse and Annaeru into Minas Tirith and I'll tell you just like I told him: Don't you say a word."

And admittedly it would have been hard for anyone to say a word, for the entire group (with the exception of Anita) was falling about in laughter.

Legolas attempted to get up, but hit his head on the table as he did so. Standing and rubbing his head, he made a face at the group. He sat down again and instantly Anita moved closer to him. The prince immediately moved around the table and sat between Dorothy and Loni.

Gimli, always seeking a chance to needle the elf, asked, "Does she frighten you, Legolas, this human girl child?"

Legolas glared at him. "She doesn't frighten me so much as unnerve me. What are you doing anyway?" He directed the last question to Anita, but Laurelin answered.

"She's in love with you, Legolas. Always has been, ever since she saw the Lord of the Rings for the first time."

Anita was behind Legolas now, her arms wrapped around him. He moaned, "The fires take Orlando Bloom and his popularity!" He looked at Elentathar, who shrugged.

"I told you fangirls were real."

"I see," said Legolas, peeling Anita off him. "Anita, you're a wonderful person, but please try to refrain from grabbing me."

Anita bit her lip. "Sorry, it's just... You are so awesome, even if you aren't blond! I can't stand it!" She nodded to him. "Though I must seem frightfully forward to you. Oh well, I guess I'd better restrain myself and try to work on you slowly." She resumed her seat with an air of playful dignity that left Legolas bemused and Gimli snickering at the look on his friend's face.

Elentathar coughed lightly. "Yes, well, elvish amour aside, this is the plan. We set a neutral location and arrange a meeting of Dari and Elfwine. The two meet, bringing only a score of unarmed men each, and Dorothy moderates the meeting. The lords may be armed if they wish. Hopefully this will work and not go down like everything else has."

"Sweet, let's do this," Belegorn muttered. When all present looked at him oddly, he exclaimed, "What?"

Laurelin shook her head as she got up. "He's been hanging with you too much, 'Nita."


	9. Chapter 9

The location was set on the banks of the Snowbourn river. It was midway between the two capital cities and thus no argument should ensue. "Unless someone pulls out their handy dandy ruler and starts boasting that they're three inches closer to Edoras," muttered Laurelin.

The meeting day arrived and both rulers had eventually agreed to attend, though both were sullen about it. Elfwine's party arrived first, and when the group from Minas Tirith arrived, the Rohirrim monarch was not happy.

"Nice of you to join us, Eldarion," the king said tartly, tapping his foot in irritation.

Eldarion dismounted and replied using Elfwine's tone. "The meeting is not set to begin until noon. Shall we begin?"

The men entered the pavilion, which had been erected a few days before, and were seated. There were two score in attendance, from Rohan and Gondor and neither side took their eyes off of the other for a moment. The atmosphere was tense as Dorothy took her seat between the two lords.

The teen was arrayed as a child of the Maiar and looked very wild indeed. Outwardly she looked very calm and dignified and the troops around her were mystified at how one so young could intimate such power through a single glance.

Inside, however, Dorothy's heart and thoughts were racing in fear. What if the pair got out of control? What if they didn't listen? What could she say? What could she do?

Fortunately the meeting went well. At first. The royals talked and were even beginning to agree on a few things when everything began to go wrong.

Eldarion placed a finger in the middle of the map they'd spread on the table. "Alright, my lord, I believe you when you say you haven't been raiding us. But then-"

A voice came from the Gondorian side of the crowd, cutting him off. "Filthy strawhead! Don't believe a word out of his lying mouth, lord Eldarion!"

Elfwine was on his feet, drawing a knife. "Take it back!"

Eldarion was up a heartbeat later, his knife crossing the Rohirric one. "Don't even think about it, my lord. We are here under truce."

Dorothy began to rise and draw the two back to their seats, but was stopped by a goblet flung from the crowd. It hit her squarely in the head, knocking her out and back into Elentathar's arms.

Along with the goblet came another jeer, this time from the Rohirrim. "Let's do what we should have done all along, men! Let's gut the butchering dogs and be done with it!"

With a roar, the men fell to, fighting tooth and nail in the absence of weapons. Eldarion and Elfwine leaped into the fray to try and restore order, but when an incensed Rider of Rohan spun Eldarion around with a punch to his jaw the cause was lost and they fell in with the rest. Anarchy ruled the day.

The sisters of Eldarion and their three charges crouched behind the dais which the rulers had but recently been seated upon. Howls and cries filled the air while Elentathar tried desperately to wake Dorothy. She shook the girl, trying to remember what she should do. "Dotti, please wake up, we need you!"

A young soldier of Rohan came tumbling over the dais, bloody and bruised. But he charged back into the brawl, not heeding the small group of women he nearly trampled. This close encounter charged Loni's already frayed nerves and she slapped her foster sister in the face. "Dorothy Annaeru Maethoriel O'Kelly, there's no time! Wake up!"

Dorothy's eyes snapped open and it took a moment for her to focus. Then it all came rushing back and she buried her face in Elentathar's bodice, weeping. "Oh Ellen, it was terrible! I was so scared. The Valar must have made a mistake, I can't do anything about this!" Ellen held her tightly, trying to block out the sounds of the altercation around them. She didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say.

Anita, meanwhile, was not bored. She bobbed up and down behind the dais, fully aware of the danger but trying to catch a glimpse of Legolas in action. Suddenly she stopped. An unseen force seemed to bid her look around. As she did so, she spotted a shrouded figure creeping stealthily away from the pavilion.

Anita froze as the figure pulled its cloak closer about itself. The hand was as black as her own. And Anita knew quite well that there were few or none like her that did not mean war for the Dunedain.

She sprinted for the form and, grasping its shoulder, swung it to face her. A Haradrim woman, hair as white as snow and eyes like candleflame, stared up at her. The malignant look in her face told Anita all she needed to know and the girl snatched the elderly woman's wrists before she could make a move. The woman was of small stature and was obviously quite old, but it was still a task for Anita to fight her back to the group behind the dais.

"Help me," she gasped. "She may be old, but she fights like a tig- Ouch!" This last was exclaimed as the woman's teeth met in Anita's hand. Laurelin quickly bound the woman's wrists with a belt she'd shanghaied from Loni and used her own to bind the woman's ankles.

Subdued but not broken, the woman's eyes sparked cruelly. "Bind me if you will, but you cannot bind the slaughter I have unleashed. This 'peace talk' will come to a bloody end and Gondor and Rohan will destroy the West in war! I have won."

"You," Elentathar whispered, mind racing furiously. Then she turned to Dorothy. "Dorothy, you have to go back out there."

Dorothy's eyes grew saucer wide. "Ellen, no, I can't!"

Ellen took her by the hand. "Listen to me, I have a plan. You must go back up on the dais and this is what you will say..."

The battle raged on. It had turned to fight or be trampled, like it or not. So no one noticed when Dorothy O'Kelly ascended to the platform. She gripped her staff tightly for strength and called out, "Men of Rohan, of Gondor, listen to me!"

No response from the seething mass of humanity.

"Stop the madness and listen!"

Still nothing.

This angered the girl. She was risking a lot by being up here; the least they could do was look. Her warrior blood rose and for the first time she felt at home in this place. "I am Annaeru Maethoriel and you will listen to me!" She banged her staff down forcefully. It cracked and a report like a gunshot snapped over the assembled men and Melaglar flashed in time to the sound.

All fighting ceased and every man stared up at Dorothy, who stood holding two halves of an ash stave and feeling not a little foolish. This did not deter her though and she laid the halves aside. "Thank you! This is important."

She nodded to Elentathar, who wrestled the still-struggling Harad dame into the crowd's line of sight. "This woman, through her own words, has confessed that she has been the one behind this madness. I would assume she has accomplices. Rally around your lord. See who among you is unfamiliar. If any try to escape the pavilion, capture them if you can and kill them if you must."

The power in her voice brooked no argument and soon a half-score of men were bound upon the dais along with the woman. Patrols had been sent to see if any had escaped during the fray. A group of twenty gathered around the prisoners in the now semi-deserted pavilion. Eldarion, the women, Legolas, Gimli and Belegorn were there, along with Elboron, Prince of Ithilien. Elfwine and his captain Cena were also in attendance, as well as eight other men of the Mark. They separated the woman from her accomplices and prepared to question her.


	10. Chapter 10

Cena turned from a whispered conference with the group and began to speak, but the Southron woman cut him off. "I have nothing to hide. I will tell you everything, without being sufficiently frightened by your threats. I know very well how Gondor treats its prisoners.

"My name is Susanna and I was once a captain of the Haradrim host. When I was young, I was taken prisoner by Gondor. I knew of the honorable reputation of the armies of the White Tree, so I was not afraid. But my expectations fell far short and I was abused and shamed in the city of Kings. The only person who was kind to me was Lord Faramir, your father." She looked up at Elboron, emotions fighting among themselves in her eyes. "He helped me escape. I swore an oath by the sands of Harad that I would return and fight until my last breath to tear Minas Tirith stone from stone, killing every seed of Gondor except that which has helped me. Lord Faramir's house I would not touch.

"Upon my return to Harad I discovered I was pregnant. I was afraid of what my people would think, but I was hailed as a hero for enduring through my imprisonment and my pregnancy was just icing on the cake. My son was, of course, born abnormally light-skinned, but this did not hinder him. He went on to become a mumak rider and I became a captain of the Haradrim.

"When the Lord of the Black Land called my people to war, Mihail, my son, went with a will. He believed in the cause and was pleased to finally get to strike against those who abused his mother. He was sent to Mordor with a patrol and I was sent to call the Easterlings from across the Sea of Rhun.

"When I arrived at the Morannon, my heart leaped at being reunited with Mihail, light of my life. But search as I might, none of his patrol had arrived. I was frantic with worry when a single badly wounded mumak was allowed through the gate. The last survivor of my son's company told me what had occurred. They had been ambushed in Ithilien and he alone had escaped alive. Stunned, I asked who had done the deed. He told me that they were Rangers and the man who drew bow against my child was called Faramir. My heart went cold and I vowed that even if Gondor lasted until the world's ending I would eradicate the house of Faramir. He may have saved my life, but I would have died a thousand deaths in Barad-dur before I would let anyone touch my son."

She looked around. "You stare at me in shock and perhaps horror. But would not all of you kill for your children? Especially your only son? Or be killed for your children.

"I marched with my people on the Pelennor and we would have won the day against my son's murderers if not for your father." She nodded at Eldarion. "He brought the armies of the dead. I was just beginning to finish a Rohirric man when I heard the horns. I was distracted, and that moment gave the man's son time to slip a knife in my side. The last words I heard were "Tell the devil Aescwine's son sent you.' But I didn't...die."

An older man named Ohtar had been watching and at the name Aescwine his face paled. He leaped upon Susanna and snatching out Elfwine's sword he slew the Harad captain with a cry of, "Murderer!"

The company stood stunned for a minute, then Elfwine retrieved his sword. "Ohtar, what is the meaning of this?"

Covered with Haradrim blood and looking not a little ashamed, the Rider stood down. "I'm sorry, my lord. Aescwine of Rohan was my grandfather. This witch killed him right before my father's eyes and I grew up to the sound of my father's screaming in the night from the nightmares it caused. It haunted him for the rest of his life and I promised him that I would avenge his pain. When I saw that the woman I sought was here, now, I couldn't restrain myself. Forgive me, my king."

Elboron put a hand on his shoulder. "The act was born from noble intentions."

Elfwine cleaned and sheathed his sword. "Yes, but now she's dead. We are now permanently without answers to many questions."

Ohtar looked down. "I acted rashly, my lord."

"But all is not lost. There are the other men we captured. They may know a lot," put in Eldarion.

Elfwine rolled his eyes. "Ohtar, I'll deal with you later. But right now, Eldarion has a good idea. Let's question some of the others."

They singled out one of the older men and set to get some answers out of him. But by the time two hours had passed, they hadn't got a single word out of him other than 'I've got nothin' t'say.' And with a 'no torture' policy, it wasn't getting any better. Tempers flared higher and higher and as dusk fell, Cena held out his hand. "With your permission, Lord Elfwine, I can get answers out of him."

Elfwine slapped his knife into the captain's hand. "Permission granted. I'd do anything to break him about now."

Cena smiled grimly and turned back to the prisoner, who couldn't have looked more relaxed. The man of Rohan placed the knife at the man's throat. "Talk, or I start cutting."

The man leered at him. "You wouldn't. All of you Dunedain hide behind your rules of conduct like children behind their mother's aprons. You'd never harm me for information."

Cena drew back the knife with a snarl. "Oh wouldn't I?"

As he brought it down, a hand clamped about his wrist, effectively stopping the blow. A soft voice said into his ear, "Do not do anything so foolish to this one as your comrade did to the woman, Cena, son of Eoforhild." Startled, Cena dropped the blade, backing away. "How do you know me?"

An elven woman stood there, backlit by the torches. She was obviously not your typical woman. She wore the clothing of a northern Ranger, her strawberry-blonde hair was pulled into warrior braids and she bore a scar on her face that spoke volumes. Her sea green eyes sized up their prisoner coldly. ignoring Cena. "Let me try."

They spread out, allowing her access to the man. She crouched down in front of him. "Do you know who I am?"

He spat at her. "A dirty elf, the same kind that-" He stopped himself and pressed his lips together. The woman nodded.

"I see. Well, as you stated before, the men of the west are far too honorable to stoop to torturing you for information." She leaned closer, eyes narrowing. "I am a Ranger, born of the wilds. I have no such qualms." The prisoner looked patently unimpressed, but she continued nonchalantly. "You will talk to me. And for every answer I find unsatisfactory, I will cut a half-moon across your cheekbone. Then I will peel the skin away. Or I could puncture your eyeballs. They make interesting pops when opened, rather like squeezing a grape until it bursts. Then, I'll slit your nostrils. None of these little things will really damage you, of course, and they will leave the rest of your body unharmed in case you need...further persuasion."

All present watched the exchange intently, not believing that the elf could be that brutal. The prisoner gulped and muttered, "I've nothin' t' say t' the likes of you!"

The Ranger drew a knife and laid it on his cheek, twisting it slightly. A pinprick of blood blossomed red and streamed down his face. "I'm sorry to hear that." She began to slide the knife in a curve across his bone. The man flinched, but didn't move as she slowly opened his face. The woman frowned.

"Oh, I see. You're a tough one. Very well, the eyes have it." She laid her knife beside his left eye and began to bear down.

"Alright, alright, alright. Stop, please, I'll talk!" Smiling, his interrogator took away her knife and got up. The man watched her warily. "I'll tell you what you want to know, just don't let that [ithing[/i near me again."

Elfwine sat down across from him. "So talk."

Their prisoner gulped and darted a quick glance at the woman, who stood beside him holding her blade loosely in her fingers. "My name is-"

"Your name is of no consequence," Eldarion cut in. "Tell us of the one called Susanna."

"Right." The man licked his lips and tried again. "You know part of her story. After she was wounded on the Pelennor, she was taken for dead. But she didn't die; she made it off of the Pelennor and survived, though it was a long road to recovery. Then she took to wandering Middle-earth. She wandered for years before she found us.

"Many years ago, my comrades and I were Dunlanders. We traveled to the Golden Wood hoping to gain the favor of Lady Galadriel and be permitted to live within the bounds of her realm.

"But in trying to please her, we incurred her wrath. So the Lady barred us from our goal forever. We were angered, and sought to avenge our wounded pride. We sought out the Galadrim and murdered all we could find, as well as all elves and elf-friends. But this also had it's consequences: Lord Celeborn cursed us and bound us in the glade we called a camp so that we may never leave. Most people avoided our place and were safe.

"But that with that curse came certain side-affects. When the span of our natural life ended, we remained in the wood as wraiths, trapped forever. However, there was a way to be released. If anyone was so foolish as to enter our glade, they would be enchanted by our music and when they were ensnared, we would feed on their living souls. This gave us strength and little by little we gained substance and only needed one more feed to gain freedom from our prison. But none was forthcoming. The elves were leaving these shores and the men been warned of us. It looked hopeless.

"But then Susanna came along. She made a deal with us. She'd let us take her soul if we would make her immortal and help her avenge her son. The few elves we'd taken over the years had given us some measure of immortality, you see. She was our last hope, so we agreed. We lay in wait for many long years, making plans and awaiting the opportune moment. When Elessar left Gondor in Eldarion's hands, Susanna saw an opportunity and we acted on it.

"Disguised as first one, then the other of your nations we attacked outlying villages under cover of darkness. Our plan worked and Gondor and Rohan were at each other's throats in no time."

Elfwine looked at Eldarion, puzzled. "But I swear I saw you there."

Their prisoner smiled wryly, wincing at the pain in his face. "A bit a disguise work, torchlight, lots of action. Can you really be sure of what you saw?"

Elfwine looked down at his hands. "No..."

The man nodded. "Susanna expected the two of you to go to war. When you arranged this meeting, it was a complete surprise." Anita flashed a smile at Belegorn, who came up with the meeting in the first place. "She made the best of it, though, and we rode here with Gondor. It wasn't that hard to mingle and not be noticed. Just a couple more soldiers. Susanna instructed us to incite a riot when the talking started. She planned on this being the last straw and Gondor and Rohan would destroy each other. But then she got caught by that girl and everything failed. That's the whole story, I swear it." He looked at the grim faces of the men around him as if silently pleading to be believed.

Dorothy nodded. "I for one think he's telling the truth."

Eldarion agreed. "Place him and the others under guard." Then he turned to the woman and asked, "But who are you? Where do you come from? Why did you help us?"

She smiled bitterly. "Do you not know me, son of Elessar? But then, you would not."

Eldarion tilted his head, studying her. "The one you remind me of has been dead for years. She was called Rosegold."

She laughed. "Not dead, though I have not been called Rosegold for many decades. I am mostly known as the Morgil now. I have been with the elves of the Mark for these last years. I've come back now because unlike them, I do not feel the call to sail for the Undying Lands."

"Elves of the Mark?" Loni asked.

Elfwine answered, keeping his eyes on Rosegold. "It's an ancient legend in Rohan. It is said that a small band of elves live in the Mark, always helping and fighting for the Rohirrim since the beginning of the nation. But it is only a child's myth."

Rosegold shrugged. "If you want to believe that way, I will not argue." She abruptly changed the subject. "What will you do with the prisoners?"

"This raises a question," Elentathar said. "Whose prisoners are they? Do they go to Gondor or Rohan from here?"

Eldarion looked questioningly at Elfwine. The Rohirrim laughed and put up his hands. "Gondor can have them." Eldarion looked crestfallen; what did Elfwine expect him to do with them?

Legolas put a hand on his arm. "My Prince, if I may." When he had Dari's attention, he continued. "Take them to Minas Tirith and place them under guard until your father returns. He will know exactly what to do with them."

Eldarion bit his lip, obviously struggling with his pride. Then he sighed. "Alright. I'll wait for Ada's judgment. He always knows best."

Elfwine gave a low sigh of finality and held out his hand. "Farewell, Eldarion, heir of Gondor and friend of Rohan."

Eldarion took his hand and met his eyes evenly. "Farewell, Elfwine, King of Rohan and friend of Gondor."


	11. Chapter 11

After the company parted ways, Elentathar found Dorothy riding alone in silence near the back of the cavalcade that was headed back to Minas Tirith. She pulled up beside her and commented, "You seem thoughtful, Dotti. Want to share?"

Dorothy tilted her head back to look up at the cloudless sky. "I was just thinking about your stories. Everyone has closure. Rosegold lives, my father and mother..." she trailed off, swallowing hard. "Yaonorme continues in Rivendell," she continued after a moment, "and we're all here. There is only one person I wonder about." She looked at her guardian quizzically. "Ellen, whatever happened to Briar Rose?"

Elentathar sighed. "When she learned of Angrenbor's death, it dawned on her that if she continued to wear Elglin and to draw from the eternal life it gave her, she would stay the same while everyone she had ever loved would grow old and die. She decided that she didn't want to live that way. So the day after Legolas brought you into Minas Tirith, Briar Rose met with my mother, Queen Undomiel, and removed Elglin from her finger. She died peacefully and they buried her just outside the main gates."

Dorothy was quiet for a long time, then she said, "So everyone has come full circle. Nearly everyone...dead." She looked so depressed that Elentathar changed to a subject that was sure to cheer her up.

"Dotti, how would you like to stay and live here in Gondor? It's certainly an option, now that you know it's real."

But to her surprise, Dorothy just looked even sadder. "I don't know. I mean, sure, living in Middle-earth has always been my dream. But now that I know who I am, and everyone else knows as well, they all stare at me. They all point at me and whisper behind their hands at the 'foreign witch'. See, there, some of them are doing it now." She nodded back at two soldiers who quickly straightened at Elentathar's meaningful glare. Dorothy almost smiled. "I'm not sure if I can live like that. I just want to be normal. But that's impossible here, now that they all know I have gallons of Maiar blood in my veins. And the thing I don't understand is why didn't I use it? This entire war mess was settled with minimal participation from me. I did nothing. Why did I have the dreams then? Were they a fluke?"

Elentathar put her hand gently on her ward's shoulder. "Dotti, you weren't meant to save the world like... like Kim Possible or something. I think you were needed as a figurehead, someone neutral and powerful the men would listen to and respect. No one could have stopped the brawl back at the Snowbourn except you. You did what you were meant to do and you did it well."

Dorothy shrugged off her hand. "I'm going to go talk to the Morgil; try to sort some things out." She kicked her mount and trotted ahead to catch the Ranger, who was riding briskly at the head of the small group.

Elentathar dropped back to where Loni, Anita and Laurelin were chatting. They fell silent when Elentathar's horse fell into step beside them. Finally Anita asked, "What's wrong with Dotti?"

"She's got a lot on her mind right now," Elentathar replied. "She's struggling with a lot of stuff, mainly the issue of staying here or going back to the twenty-first century." She looked at the other two teens, tilting her head slightly. "How about you girls? Will you go home or stay here?"

Loni shrugged. "Meh, I don't know. I would love to stay in Middle-earth. This is my birthplace, after all. All my life I've dreamed this place was real. I hoped that it was real and not just something in my head or in my heart or on a printed page. It's like a miracle, being here. But I really would miss some of the comforts of modern living. My friends, my microwave popcorn, my computer... Let me think about it for a little while."

Laurelin turned to Anita. "What about you, 'Nita? I'm sure you can't wait to get home where you belong."

Anita, however, didn't reply right away. She looked away, over the landscape and over the people they were riding alongside. Then she said quietly, "I don't know. You know I never liked LOTR. Never. But now that I'm here, now that I see the lands and cities and meet the people, I'm discovering that it isn't as hokey and hyped-up as I once thought. Not really. I'm beginning to like it here. But still..." She fell silent, unsure how to say what she felt.

They rode in silence for a long time, then Laurelin clapped her hands briskly. "Great gravy granny, you should see our faces. We could bring the rain. You know what? We are getting too depressed over fate. Whatever will be, will be. So let's not worry about it so much, all right?" She looked around encouragingly, trying to make at least one of them smile. "Let's do something happy, to cheer us up some."

"Like what?" Anita wondered aloud, clearly not enthused.

"Let's sing!" Elentathar said, suddenly catching Laurelin's bouncy mood. "What do you guys want to sing?"

"How about 'The Circle of Life'?"

"NO!"

Anita sat back in her saddle, mock-sulking because her idea had been shot down by unanimous vote. Loni fiddled with her reins, humming softly to herself. Laurelin caught the tune and laughed brightly. She began to sing the words. Eventually the song caught on and they sang it loud, for all the world to hear.

_May it be an evening star  
Shines down upon you  
May it be when darkness falls  
Your heart will be true  
You walk a lonely road  
Oh! How far you are from home_

_Mornie utúlië  
Believe and you will find your way  
Mornie alantië  
A promise lives within you now_

_May it be the shadows call  
Will fly away  
May it be you journey on  
To light the day  
When the night is overcome  
You may rise to find the sun_

_Mornie utúlië  
Believe and you will find your way  
Mornie alantië  
A promise lives within you now.._


	12. Epilogue

_And that's the way it ended. It's been three years and I still remember it like it was yesterday. I decided to go back to the modern world and finish my education like a normal kid. I'm graduating this year. I still visit Middle-earth occasionally, but I live here. I wanted to live my life normally, without everyone looking at me like I was a freak._

_I visit Middle-earth because Loni and Anita both decided to stay there. Loni lives in Rohan, following in the steps of her grandmother as a healer. She's really happy there. She's also organizing the rather disarrayed national library of Rohan. That girl would not be happy if she didn't have her fingers in at least two pies. She may have another project by now, but I don't know._

_Anita is in Gondor. She seems to be mostly over her Legolas obsession, even though she still squeals when he unexpectedly shows up. She and Belegorn, on the other hand, have developed their relationship by leaps and bounds. Those two have clashed so much that the sharp edges have worn smooth. Their wedding is this afternoon. They planned it specially for today so that I could be there._

_Elentathar will be there too. She moved to Rivendell to help Yaonorme with the upkeep of the failing Last Homely House. She writes me letters now and then and while I'm in Middle-earth I plan to visit her and my uncle._

_Laurelin graduated cum laude from Duke with an English degree last year. She still lives mostly in the twenty-first century and we share a house now that Elentathar officially moved back to Arda. Even though Laurelin has a degree from Duke, she doesn't use it. Right now she spends her life playing the acoustic fiddle for her band, the Stupid Snowmen_

_No one sees much of Rosegold. She visits Gondor and Rivendell occasionally, but mostly she continues in the Wilds. I suppose one of these days she'll just never come back. It's hard for me to believe that none of this would have happened if not for her._

_I've learned a lot through my first experience in Middle-earth. It was funny at some times and hard at others. I learned to depend on my friends and to look beyond myself to see the bigger picture. I learned that life isn't about what you do. It's how you do it._

_With Ellen's help, I've gathered the stories of the three generations of Rosegold's family into one tome. When I finish this epilogue, Loni will bind this volume and file it in the library of Rohan. Perhaps someday someone will happen upon it and be interested in the Saga of the Mary-Sues._

_The wedding bells are ringing and spring is in the air. Our story ends here. The rest of it is up to you. Namarie._

_Dorothy Annaeru O'Kelly_

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I wrote this in my Mary Sue phase, and then picked it up later in life like 'fuck it, let's just make this the worst trilogy of Mary Sue LOTR fics the world has ever seen.' So it sucks for a reason. I hope you enjoyed it, because I put a lot of work into this thing and am still stupidly proud of it.


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